


the soldier

by iwritecrapfanfic



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: 1930s, M/M, World War II, also orginal family characters because im a sucker for a good nana, but none of that alex shit, kinda like dunkirk fic, pure styles up in this shit
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-17
Updated: 2018-05-17
Packaged: 2019-05-08 09:23:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,062
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14691174
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/iwritecrapfanfic/pseuds/iwritecrapfanfic
Summary: harry is about to go off to war. they say goodbye.i watched dunkirk started writing a dunkirk fic, realised i was not prepared to write the entire thing, so i changed it around a little, hopefully made it less shit (no promises)edited to contain actual summary of fic, don't write summaries at 1am kids.





	the soldier

**Author's Note:**

> was gonna write dunkirk fic, it was too long wrote this instead. in the process of researching the rest of this fic i did actually ruin all other dunkirk fic though because like any ind of historical inaccuracy drives me insane but i did like so much research too fucking much.
> 
> please ignore louis' convenient illness, i needed it for plot reasons okay and you can't make fun of it because i have the same thing and that would make you a dick (jk take the piss all you want). also i tried not to glorify joining the army of anything like that but if i did soz i guess, blame it on my slight military kink (the uniforms are just so hot) 
> 
> i had no idea what to call this, the word doc was called penetrate me harry styles (i'm not even into dudes its just him) i just decided to name it after one of the two war poems i remembered studying at school, i know that the soldier is a ww1 poem not a ww2 poem, just get off my dick okay, it was either this or dulce et decorum est and i don't speak latin so that could mean anything.

“Morning love. Big day today.”

Harry’s eyes blinked open slowly to see his mother stood over his bed with a cup of tea waiting for him, the dark circles around her bloodshot eyes send a sharp pang through his heart as he sits up.

“I’ve been waiting for you to get up but I thought I’d best to just wake you seeing as it’s gone 9 o’clock now,” she says, nodding to the clock on his bedside table. “Wouldn’t want you to not have enough time to say goodbye to everyone.”

In truth Harry had been awake for a while now, in fact he hardly got any sleep. He’d spent the morning listening to his mother fuss around in the kitchen, which is right below his room, and pace outside his door. Today is a day he’s not sure he can face.

“That shouldn’t be much a problem really, the train doesn’t leave until three.” He’d know, he’s been planning out this day since he found out the date he’d be leaving.

Anne places the tea on his bedside table, forced smile never once wavering. “Well then take your time and come downstairs once your ready, thought it’d be nice if we all ate breakfast together as a family one last time before you…” She begins to trail off, composure slipping as a sob starts to bubble up from inside her chest.

Harry starts to get out of bed to comfort his mother, but she steps away and waves him off with a dismissive flick of the dish towel she’s holding.

“Don’t worry about me love, you just drink your tea and get yourself sorted, got a proper full english waiting for you downstairs,” Anne flashes him a final sad smile, before closing the door behind her.

And with that Harry was alone.

He purposely takes his time getting ready, throwing on a white shirt and then trying to decide which jumper would annoy Louis the most, before settling on a garish green and yellow knitted vest that his Nan had made him last christmas. He’d normally be a lot quicker, but knowing that this could be the last morning spent in his childhood bedroom makes him drag out the process.

As he's about to leave the room, he pauses in front of his chest of drawers and picks up the model plane that's sat on top of it. His step dad had bought it for him when he was eleven, Robin had wanted him to build it right then, but Harry insisted on waiting-- Louis had just started to get ill and he’d wanted them to build it together. He thinks back to the hours he and Louis would spend playing soldiers, Harry would never have imagined that he might one day become one.

Harry closes his eyes and tries to dismiss those thoughts. Today he has to be strong, so they can be strong. He leaves his room without taking a long wistful look around, there's no need, he tells himself, he's going to see it again soon. He's not sure if he believes it either. 

He bounds down the stairs and into the kitchen to see his family all sat around the kitchen table where there was far too much food spread out for just the five of them.

“Come on sweetheart,” his Mum says gently, beckoning Harry to join them. “You’ll want to get some proper food in you before you go.” 

Robin chuckles. “Right Harry, don’t be expecting meals like this in the barracks.”

Harry sits down, and begins to pile his plate with food. He’s not got much of an appetite really but would hate to let all of his mother’s hard work go to waste.

“Ridiculous really.” his Nan huffs. “A growing young lad like him needs to be fed proper, hearty meals, not the crap they’ll be giving him out there”

“I wasn’t much older than him when I signed up, and I did just fine” Robin offers.

“And I hear they’ve really stepped up the quality of food they serve now. Can’t have soldiers dropping dea-” Anne angrily slams the fork she was gripping down onto the table, stopping Gemma mid-sentence.

“Enough!” Her voice trembles as she yells. “This is all we’ve talked about for the past two weeks. It’s Harry’s last day at home and and I’m sure he’s just as sick of hearing about.” 

They spend the rest of the meal in silence, only breaking to ask for the jam, or to make benign comments about the general goings on in the village. Harry’s not sure who they’re putting a brave face on for, his mother or him.

“Look, you can all stop walking on eggshells around me, okay. I’m just being called for basic training, we’re not even at war yet. Who knows, all this business with Germany could blow over, and I’ll be back cluttering up the place before you know it.” Harry tries to add some levity to his voice to diffuse the tension that had been growing in the room since his mother’s outburst.

“Not if that warmongering bastard, Churchill has to do with it.” Robin says, with a venom that becomes less confident as he sees his wife’s disapproving glare at his language. 

“The Prime Minister says he wants peace and that is who we should be listening to.” Anne says in a matter of fact manner. She’s clearly still trying to shut down the conversation.

“Oh I’m sure that’s why they’ve started conscripting people again, just to ensure we have enough soldiers to keep the peace.” Gemma never did know when to shut up. 

Her comment triggered a debate between her and Robin. They were right of course, everyone knew that a war was coming, Chamberlain talked of making peace with Germany, but they’ve all seen the papers and heard the horror stories from people who had managed to get out. A storm was gathering and everyone could feel it. 

The two of them carried on for a few minutes until Anne loudly got up out of her chair and ran out of the room. The four of them looked at each other for a moment, unsure of who should follow her, before Harry stood up and ran after her.

He finds her stood in the living room polishing the candle holders on the mantelpiece. She always started cleaning when she was stressed. Harry thinks back to two weeks ago, the night before his army medical examination, he’d walked into the kitchen in the middle of the night to get a glass of water, only to find his mother cleaning the skirting boards with a toothbrush.

He grabs her wrists and puts the candle holders down and pulls her into a tight hug, he feels her relax and release a sob that she’d been holding in her chest. 

“I’m sorry that I did this,” He says softly, trying to keep his own tears from escaping. 

Anne pulls away sharply and looks up at him. “Don’t you dare apologise. I raised you to be a strong, brave man, so how can I be surprised that this is what you’ve decided to do.”

Harry doesn’t know quite what to say at that. He doesn’t feel strong, or brave. Not really. When he first signed up he wasn’t being brave. Part of the reason he had enlisted was because it felt like it was what was expected of him. It's what his father had done when the Great War started, and with all the news coming out of Germany, another war was clearly on the horizon, so it’s what Harry decided to do. The magnitude of the decision didn’t really his him until after he passed his medical examination A1 and was given two weeks before he’d begin basic training in Kent.

To put it lightly he’d spent the past two weeks scared shitless. 

It didn’t help that since finding out people around the village would give him long sympathetic smiles wherever he went. Word spreads fast in a small village like Cadeby, and his nan probably helped the gossip along by telling half the ladies at bingo, when he’d first mentioned enlisting back in March. 

The thing with this war is that there’s no sense of national pride or honour associated with it this time around, not after last one, not after more than half the men in the village nearly lost their lives fighting in a senseless war, one that only served to breed more violence.

Violence that Harry has decided to walk right into. He knows that he needs to be strong right now, but he’s not sure he can be. And with that thought, he just crumples. 

“I’m not brave though mum,” Harry chokes, tears finally brimming over as he sinks down into the sofa. “I don’t know if I can do this. I’m going to be all on my own, without you or Gems or Louis. What if-”

“Hey, none of that now sweetheart,” Anne sits down and lifts her hands to cup his cheeks, rubbing his tears away with her thumbs like she would do when he was little. “You’re going to make it through, I know you will. One day at a time, love. And I will spout clichés at you until you believe in yourself.”

Harry laughs at that, slumping slightly to lean his head on his mother’s shoulder.

“Look at the pair of us. Nana always did call us crybabies,” she says stroking his hair.

“There’s nothing wrong with being in touch with your emotions.”

Anne smiles in reply and turns to kiss the top of Harry’s head. “You know I’m going to miss you so much, right?.”

“Not as much as I’m going to miss you.” 

They sit there for a few minutes, both trying not to think of the worst, before Harry suddenly sits up and jumps to his feet. “Alright, I think that is enough feeling sorry for myself, best get going. Got things to do, people to see, all that stuff. See you lot at Louis’ later?.” 

They were having a garden party over at the Tomlinson house due to their bigger garden as a kind of going away party for Harry. The two families had always been close. Ever since Anne and Robin decided to move to Cadeby when Harry was four to be closer to Anne’s mother, the two families had almost merged into one. It only made sense that they would all say goodbye together.

“Oh yes, of course, I’d completely forgotten. God, I need to finish that salad,” Anne gasps as she stands up quickly, she stops for a moment to regard Harry. “You’re going out with your hair like that?”

“What’s wrong with it?” He questions lifting his hands up to his head to ruffle it a little.

“It looks a state. Wait there I’ll fetch the brylle cream. Can’t have you looking like a scruff, today of all days.”

Harry watches with a smile as his mother frets about the living room. She’ll be fine, he thinks, even if he didn’t come back, she’d manage.

\-----

Louis lives on the other side of the village, it’s a walk Harry has done countless times in the past fifteen years. Cadeby is small and the house is only a three minute walk away but when they were kids and he couldn't wait to spend the day with his best friend, it felt like there were miles and miles between them. 

Growing up they had often wished they were next door neighbours, and at one point, when the man who lived next door to Harry’s family moved out, they tried to convince Louis parent’s to move there. In the end Joanna had to sit the two of them down and explain that the two bedroom house wasn’t really practical for Louis’ rather large family.

Harry practically runs all the way to there, not wanting to waste anymore time that could be spent with him but as Harry walks up the path to the front door, he starts to hesitate. He’s not sure if he can do this, he’s not sure he’s ready to say goodbye.

This decision is taken out of his hands by Louis’ mother opening the door, presumably after seeing him hovering at the door for a few minutes.

“Hiya love, looking forward to the party? I’m making trifle, your favourite,” Jay beams up at Harry, pulling him into a quick hug. “I presume you’re here early to see Louis. You know the rest of us are going to miss you too, it wouldn’t kill you to spend a moment or two with us you know.”

“Who is this Louis fellow you speak of?” Harry says in mock confusion. “Can’t a young lad come to visit his favourite Auntie Jay?”

“Don’t let Lou here you say that, or the jerrys’ll be the least of your worries,” Harry ignores the spike her words send through his heart.

“Speaking of the menace, you wouldn’t know where he is, would you?”

Jay throws her hands up in defeat, “See there he goes! Swanning off to become a soldier, and can’t even spare two minutes to console his poor, grieving Auntie,” neither of them think it’s worth mentioning that she’s not his real Aunt.

“Oh come off it, I’m not dying, I’m going to bloody Kent,” He says with a laugh. 

“I’m sorry sweetheart, I bet you’ve had enough of this off your mum. I’m just going to miss you lad, that’s all. You’re as much my own as the rest of them, you know.” 

“Oh, because that’s one thing you need, more kids.”

Jay leans over to swat at him with a tea towel. “Oi you, enough with the cheek! I’m trying to have a serious, touching moment with you now,” She huffs, shaking her head.

“Me? Cheeky? Never,” Harry smiles at her, expecting her to smile back, but tears begin to well up in her eyes. He pulls her into hug and tells himself that he’s not going to cry again.

“Just please stay safe out there, okay,” She puts her hands on his shoulders and pushes him away to look him in the eye. “You know It’s not just him that will miss you.” 

Harry smiles softly and nods his head sheepishly.

“Alright then, if I keep you any longer and Louis will riot and I’ll never hear the end of it. Although good luck escaping the girls.”

Harry does manage to dart through the living room, escaping the grasp of the Tomlinson girls, and through the back door into the garden where Louis’ dad is hacking at their overgrown hedge.

“He’s out in the field.” Mark sighs, not even bothering to look up from his task.

“Cheers mate,” Harry shouts, already running towards the garden gate.

The field behind Louis’ house was always their secret little haven, just for them. Hidden away from the house by a row of thick trees. It’s where they would spend hours playing stupid games together as kids and as they got older, and their close friendship started to rouse more suspicion, it became a place for the two of them to just be together, away from the prying eyes and whispers of the villagers and the chaos of their respective homes.

As Harry walks through the trees, he sees Louis leaning against the dry-stone wall that encloses the field, looking away so he can’t see Harry approaching.

“How are you doing, boobear?” Harry feels Louis tense in surprise as he wraps his arms around his waist.

Louis relaxes, realising who it is and sways slightly in Harry’s arms. “I fucking hate it when you call me that.”

“Oh well, we both know that’s a lie,” He kisses Louis cheek before turning him around to face him. “And plus it’s my last day, so you have to give me whatever I want, if I want to call you shit-for-brains, you’ve just gotta accept it.”

“Is that so? Whatever you want? Maybe I should go away somewhere, this whole ‘getting whatever you want’ deal sounds great.” Louis says, a playful smile dancing on his lips that tells Harry exactly what Louis would want in that situation.

Harry can’t help but smile at that. He reaches down to intertwine their hands and leans his forehead down to meet Louis’, noses brushing ever so slightly.

“You’re ridiculous,” Harry murmurs, before Louis rises up and meets Harry’s lips with his own.

Harry would like the say that standing in that field, kissing Louis, in the same spot he did for the first time years ago, it feels just like that first time, but it doesn’t. For starters they had been laying down when they’d kissed that very first time. Louis had tasted of the tinned peaches they’d taken out of Anne’s kitchen and their cheeks were still round with lingering childhood. That kiss had felt like a thousand beginnings, like saying hello to a new side of his best friend. 

This one just feels like goodbye.

Louis, sensing something’s wrong, lets go of Harry’s hands and pulls away from the kiss to see the sad, wistful look on his face. “No. Not today.”

“What? I didn’t say anything.”

“I could see the stupid look on your stupid face. You are not ruining the last day I have with you with all this mopey nonsense,” His voice is light but Harry can see the pain in his eyes.

Harry reaches out to gently cup Louis’ cheek, “Lou, you’ve been avoiding this all week, at some point we’re going to have to say good-”

“But I don’t want to,” His eyes are visibly wet now, Harry can hear the tears slowly creep into his ever defiant voice. “So what we’re going to do is sit here and pretend like it’s any other boring day. You’ll tell me about what funny thing your Nan said at breakfast and I’ll spend half an hour complaining about whatever argument the girls are having this week, and it’ll be gloriously dull, and we’ll love every last minute of it.”

Harry smiles, and sits down and leans his back against the wall, dragging Louis down with him and tucking him into his side.

“You’re the worst boyfriend in the world you know?” They don’t use that word often, boyfriend, it never felt like a word that they were allowed to use..

“And why is that?”

“I’ve read enough of Gemma’s terrible romance novels to know that I, the brave, young soldier, am entitled a dramatic, weepy send off from the sweetheart I’m leaving behind. Maybe a picture of you in a locket, or a lock of your hair. It’s quite rude of you to deny me of that”

Louis digs his elbow into his side before closing his eyes and resting his head on Harry’s shoulder. They sit like that for a while, the bright May sun beaming down on them. Louis is right, Harry thinks, they don’t need grand declarations of eternal love or tearful goodbyes-- those things go without saying really. 

Their love has always flourished more in the quiet moments like this where they can just be. Harry again thinks back to their first kiss, five years ago, both 14 and drunk off the kind of happiness that only comes on late summer evenings, watching the sun start to set. He doesn’t remember which one of them had started it, just remembers the soft press of Louis’ lips against his own, and fizz behind his blue eyes when they pulled away, and how they’d both just flopped onto their backs and just giggled, not saying a word, because nothing needed to be said. 

But that’s not always the case. Somethings need to be said and talked through, otherwise they can twist and become ugly. 

Like this.

“Are you angry with me?” 

Louis remains quiet for awhile as if he’s considering his answer, before finally sighing, “Yeah, a little.”

Harry can’t pretend he’s surprised. The day he told Louis he was enlisting, the look of heartbreak in his eyes had almost torn Harry in two. They’d argued about it for a while and Louis, being the little shit he is, then told him that he was going to enlist with him, but they both knew that couldn’t happen because of Louis illness. He was eleven when it came about, he would have these strange episodes where he would get awfully lightheaded, or his vision would go blurry and his heart would start racing. Some days it got so bad he could hardly move without passing out. Doctors said it was something called ‘soldier’s heart’ (they are both very aware of the irony). It was hard, but still manageable.

“Lou… I’m sorry,” Harry is looking down into his lap, unable to look him in the eye.

“You’re not though,” Louis has a sad smile on his face as he tilts Harry’s chin to look at him. “I know you’re not sorry, because if you were you wouldn’t be going off to fight this war, and if you don’t do that I know you’re not the idiotically courageous Harry Styles, that I fell in love with.”

“You sound like my mum.”

“That’s what you wanna hear when your trying to be romantic,” Louis says, giggling a little.

“No, not like that,” Harry chuckles, shaking his head. “I just mean, you two are sure I’m just so brave. But I’m not really.”

Louis shakes his head and opens his mouth to interrupt him but Harry keeps talking. “Do you want to know why I signed up? Why now, before we’re even at war? Because I know that, if say, months down the line, when war breaks out and they open up conscription to everyone and I get chosen, if the decision is forced upon me and I get taken away from you, I don’t know if I could handle it. So I thought I’d take control, you know? Make it so it’s my decision, before all of this starts to feel too real.” Harry doesn’t know when the tears started running down his cheeks.

Louis shifts himself so that he’s sitting in Harry’s lap and winds his legs around his waist and places his hands on his shoulders, letting Harry bury his face in Louis’ neck. They know that one of Louis’ sisters could run into the field at any moment and see them sat like this but they doesn’t really care, and luckily Jay is usually good at keeping the girls away at times like this. 

“Will you be able to see me off at the train station?” Harry mumbles into Louis skin.

“Of course I will love, we’ll have to be careful though.” Louis moves his hands up to stroke the back of Harry’s neck.

And that’s the worst part. Here they are crying about the possibility that Harry might have to go off to war, and how he might not come back at all. But what if they won the war and he did return? What then? They go back to hiding, having to make sure they don’t stand too close together when they’re in the village, unable to even look at each other for too long without hearing the whispers. In the early days of their romantic relationship it had almost been fun, sneaking out in the middle of the night and being able to have something that was just his and Louis’ but now, Harry’s just tired.

“And we’ll have no sulking about that either,” Louis says as if he’s able to read his mind, still cradling Harry’s head .“There’s no sense in crying over something we can’t change.

“It’s just not fair.”

“Yeah well, life’s not fair,” there’s not malice in the statement but it snaps Harry out of his misery.

“You’re too good for me,” he says as he brushes his lips along Louis’ neck. “You’re so strong, when I can’t be and you’re far too willing to indulge my terribly selfish behaviour.”

“Well of course I’m too good for you,” he declares and he pokes a finger into one of Harry’s dimples. “But you’re not being selfish, and even if you were it’d be deserved. Come this time tomorrow, you won’t get to be selfish anymore, so if you wanna indulge a bit, go ahead.”

Harry looks up at Louis with a smile and pushes him off his lap so that he’s laying on the ground with Harry leaning over him. “You know you are the most beautiful, amazing, funny, brilliant, wonderful boy in the whole entire world.” He punctuates each word with a kiss littered on Louis face making him giggle and try to wriggle out from under him.

“You just love to point out the obvious, don’t you Styles?” Louis stands up and brushes the grass off his trousers, and reaches up to try to sort out his hair that he just knows Harry must have messed up. “Alright, come on, we’ve still got ages before your train leaves and if I keep you all to myself, your mum will hate me forever.”

Harry stands up and wraps his arms around Louis waist, stopping him from trying to walk back to the house. “She loves you, and what will five more minutes do?”

“Oh fuck off,” Louis says as he tries to squirm out of Harry’s grasp. “They’re probably all waiting for us, they might send of of the girls looking for us. And mum’s made a trifle and you know how grumpy your Nan will be if she has to wait.”

Harry loves his family and is very much looking forward to demolishing that trifle, but he feels as though once he leaves this field, the only place that has ever really felt safe for his and Louis’ love, the refuge that they built together will shatter.

“Okay, okay. One last kiss for the road though?”

\-----

‘One last kiss’ turns into five minutes of kissing before they eventually head back to Louis’ garden where both of their families are gathered around.

“Hello over there,” Jay shouts, as the two of them walk through the garden gate. “We were wondering when you two were going to grace us with your presence, almost had to send out a search party looking for you.”

Everyone is gathered around a long table covered with food, more than Harry was expecting. He thought that this was going to be more of a solemn get together rather than an all out celebration. After all there’s not really much to celebrate. 

“Did you really bring out the table cloth just for this?” Harry says nodding down to the fabric covering the Tomlinson’s garden table, which he knows his mother would have had to bring down from the attic.

“Well we wanted it to be special. The girls even made bunting.” Anne gestures around, where brightly coloured bits of paper hang from the trees.

The four youngest Tomlinson siblings look up at Harry expectantly, waiting for some sort of praise for their hours of gruelling labour. “Girls, that is truly the most magnificent bunting I have ever seen in the whole entire world.” He picks up the nearest child, Daisy, and spins her around as she squeals with laughter. 

 

The rest of the girls all clamber over to Harry insisting it’s their turn next-- not Lottie of course, she’s at that age where she insists she’s above all that. 

Once the girls finally relinquish Harry, he looks over to the table where Louis is watching him and immediately knows what he’s thinking, he’s thinking about how, if he were different, or if they were different, or better yet the whole world were different, Louis would be sat there watching the man he loves playing with his younger siblings and imagining what Harry would be like with their own kids one day. But that’s not the world they live in.

Harry walks over to him and whispers in Louis ear, placing a hand on his shoulder. “You okay Boobear?” 

“I really do hate it when you call me that,” Louis says, glaring at him, although they both know it’s not true. “I’m fine, don’t worry about me too much, go spend some time with your family I wouldn’t want for you to regret spending all of your time just with me.”

“I could never regret that, and you are family,” Harry raises his hand as if to stroke Louis cheek before remembering where he is and settling for rubbing soothing circles on his shoulder. The only person really close to them is Harry’s nan, who as Louis predicted, is entirely focused on the trifle that stands pride of place in the middle of the table. But It’s still not worth risking it. 

The two of them have always suspected that their mother’s at least were skeptical about their “friendship”, after all mums do always seem to know everything, and Gemma, being the know-it-all big sister sometimes gave them pointed looks suggesting that she is somewhat suspicious. However they have no reason to think that the others know anything, and they’d prefer to keep it that way.

Anne walks up to the table carrying stack of plates, shocking Harry and Louis out of their bubble. “Okay then, who’s ready to eat?”

“Oh thank god, I’ve been wasting away sat over here,” Ethel pipes up, reaching for the trifle.

“Nan, you can’t just go straight to your pudding, have a sandwich first or something.” Harry says, picking up a cucumber one for himself.

“Love, when you get to my age you’ll know not to waste your time on a poxy sandwich when there’s trifle around.”

“Mum can we have pudding first then? If Nana Ethel is?” Phoebe asks, looking over to her mother, knowing that she won’t be able to deny her.

“Look what you’ve bloody started now,” Jay laughs, shaking her head as she reaches for the bowls. “I guess we’ll all have pudding first then.”

They all reject the rest of the food in favour of the trifle-- Anne and Joanna only a little miffed that the majority food they spent hours making, is going untouched. All of the sugar seems to be getting to the girls though, Harry thinks, even Lottie is more animated than usual.

Robin goes inside at one point and returns with the wind up gramophone that usually sits in the Styles’ family living room and a stack of records. “I thought we could turn this into a proper party, eh?”

Harry’s face breaks out into a wide grin. “I can’t believe you dragged that thing all the way over here.”

“It was a bit of a struggle but we managed,” Robin says placing the heavy box onto the table and puts on one of the records, before turning to Anne to offer his hand. “May I have this dance, fair maiden?” 

His mother stands up and chuckles as she takes Robin’s hand. “Alright, you pillock,”.

Harry puts out a hand to his grandmother. “Come on Nan, and don’t give me any of that ‘oh I’m too old’ nonsense, I’ve just saw you nearly tackle Robin for that last bit of pudding.”

“Alright, alright, but only because it’s your last day,” Ethel says, smiling up at her grandson as she stands up to dance. 

Harry can’t help but look over to Louis who’s up and dancing with Gemma, probably wishing the same as him, that they could dance with each other.

“OI you, if you’re making me get up and dance, the least you can do is indulge me in one last conversation with my only grandson before you bugger off,” she says, smacking Harry lightly on the shoulder to get his attention. His grandmother has never been a subtle woman. 

“You’d think you’d be a little nicer to me considering my, as you put it ‘buggering off’,” Harry says brushing her hand off as she beams up at him.

They dance for a while, not really saying much, before his nan lifts up a hand to cup his cheek. “You look so much like your Uncle, you know that?”

Harry’s Uncle William had died in the first war. No one ever really speaks of him much, especially not Ethel. Sometime however, he’ll notice the way her eyes linger on his picture in the hallway, or stoke her finger across his medals that sit on the sideboard.

He doesn’t want her to do that for him.

Harry opens his mouth to speak but before he can she cuts him off. “Don’t make me any promises Harry. Don’t lie to me and say that you’re going to come back no matter what. That crap might work on your mother, but it does nothing to ease my soul.” 

“Alright. I can’t tell you that I’ll definitely be back, but I will try my damned hardest. And I can promise that no matter what, I love you,” he says firmly. He’s felt guilty for the past two weeks about the promises of his return he’s made to people, including himself. He’s glad that there’s on person he doesn’t have to lie to.

Ethel is looking up at him with tears in her eyes. “When did you get so grown up?”

“Hey now, I won’t have you getting all teary eyed, I’ve had it from everyone today, but I expect better from you.” And it’s true, Harry’s Nan has always been the level headed one of the family, whenever the rest of them were too emotional or manic she was always the one to get them to snap out of it. As Harry was growing up, she was always steady and unshakeable, even almost stern at times, so to see her here, almost crying, it breaks Harry’s heart.

“Harry dear, don’t think so highly of yourself. I didn’t shed a tear at my own children’s birth, did you think you running off to join the army was going to turn me soft?”

“I think I’d be offended at that if I couldn’t see tears welling up in your eyes.” He says, reaching down to offer her a handkerchief. 

“I can’t believe the cheek, and from own grandson, no less!” She says in mock outrage before her face becomes thoughtful as she accepts the scrap of fabric. “But in all seriousness, I want to let you know just how proud of you I am, and that I love you so so much, sweetheart.”

Harry can’t hold back the tears anymore. “You’d think I’d run out of tears with the amount of crying I’ve done today.” 

“You’ve always been an emotional sod, just like your mother, dunno where she gets it from though, certainly not me,” the two of them look over to Anne who’s still dancing with Robin. “She’ll be okay though, I know your worried about her but she’ll manage, she’s stronger than you think.”

Harry just nods, smiling softly.

They dance together for a little while longer before Daisy and Phoebe insist that they have a dance with Harry. The party continues like this for a while, everyone laughing and dancing, the abandoned sandwiches eventually get eaten but they all know it has to come to a close at some point.

“Harry lad, it’s getting to nearly half past two now. Don’t you think you should start thinking about going home to pick up your bag?” Robin says, clearly not happy to be the bearer of bad news.

Harry nods in agreement looking dejected before Louis pipes up, “How about I walk with him to the house to get his things, and who ever is coming to see him off at the train station can meet us there?”

Anne beams at him, her eyes more than a little wet. “Sounds like a wonderful idea. Harry dear, your bag is still in your room okay, don’t be dilly dallying though, can’t having missing the train.”

Harry and Louis spend most of the walk there in silence, as they near Harry’s street he turns to Louis. “I feel like we should be talking, don’t you? We’ve literally got less than an hour left with each other, we should be putting this time to good use-- and no not like that you filthy bastard.”

Louis bursts out laughing and gently bumps his shoulder against Harry’s. “I think we’ve just said it all you know? We’ve had our emotional goodbye and after fifteen years of friendship, I think we just don’t have anything new to say to each other.”

“Nah, I don’t think so,” They’re at his the front garden now, Harry swings open the gate. “I think when we’re 100 I’ll still want to talk to you for hours and hours.”

They both know it’s very unlikely that they’ll ever grow old together. Neither of them say it of course. That would be a bit of a downer.

They both walk into the house and up the stairs into Harry’s room where Louis flops onto the bed. “Oi you, get up we’re not staying.”

“Come lie next to me for a second,” Louis pats the bed, gesturing for Harry to join him.

“Alright then, but we can’t be too long,” Harry says, putting his bag down and laying on the bed.

Louis reaches down and laces his fingers with Harry’s and stares up at the ceiling. “Do you remember the first time we had a sleepover here after I got ill?”

Harry hums in response, a vague memory appearing in his mind.

“We were twelve, mum had barely let me out of the house for a month, but we begged for her to let me stay here just for the night.”

Harry grins as the memory begins to flood back. “You were still quite ill so you had to stay in bed a lot but I snuck the biscuit tin out of the kitchen.”

“We ate so many custard creams we were almost sick.”

Harry turns on his side to face Louis and runs a finger down his cheek. “I’ve never told you but I was so worried about you that night that I stayed up to watch you.”

“Watching me in my sleep? That’s just creepy.” 

“We were eleven and I was worried about you!” 

“No excuse.”

Harry places his hands on Louis hips and pulls him closer, pressing their noses together. “I’m always worried about you.” 

Louis tilts his head slightly to press his lips to Harry’s, this kiss doesn’t have the same undercurrent of sadness and longing as their kiss in the field earlier. Lying here next to Louis feels real. This kiss tastes almost hopeful even though they both know it could be their last.

Harry wishes he could say it felt like they laid their for hours, commiting each others faces to memory, but it goes by so fast, too fast.

“Come on Haz, it’s time to go.”

\-----

When they get to the station at 2:45, the train is already there, not due to leave until three. It's probably misleading to call it a train station really, it's just a raised platform, a ticket booth and a single bench. 

By the time they get there, everyone else is already there. Harry is surprised that all of them came to see him off, he was only really expecting his mum, Gemma and Jay, but as they walk onto the platform he can see both families standing in a huddle.

Anne smiles as they approach her. “You alright love? Do you have everything ready?”

Harry nods in response and looks around. Most of the people getting the train are just going into Doncaster for the day. There's only one other bloke from Cadeby who was given the same date to report for service, Marcus Colligan. Harry was pretty sure he’s the only other person in the village who enlisted at all. He standing a few yards away talking to his parents and Jeanie Barnes, his girlfriend. 

Harry turns back to his family, he feels numb. It's been a whole day of nothing but goodbyes, the thought of having to go through more exhausts him.

He hugs each one of the girls in turn, when Felicity starts to cry he almost wants to say fuck the army and run away. 

Gemma launches herself at Harry after he’s finished shaking Mark’s hand goodbye, whispering in his ear, “Please, please come home.”

Harry takes his time saying a final goodbye to everyone, his mother is openly sobbing by the time he gets around to her, Robin has tears in his eyes as he claps his hand on Harry’s shoulder and tells him to stay safe. 

He gives short hugs to Jay and his nan before the train conductor starts to shout for people to start boarding. 

“Guess it’s time for me to go,” the lump in his throat making it hard to talk.

Just as he’s about to pick up his bag and get on the train, Louis surges up onto his tiptoes and wraps his arms around Harry’s neck.

Harry freezes for a moment before turning his head to bury his nose in the crook of Louis’ neck and breathing him in one last time, before Louis pulls away.

“It would have been weirder if we didn’t hug if you think about it,” Louis says sheepishly.

Harry smiles down at Louis before waving one last goodbye at his family as he grabs his bag and walks onto the train.

His heart is racing as he fights to hold back the tears that are welling up in his eyes. He shoves his bag into the overhead compartment and sits down and looks down out of the window to smile at his family. Harry wills the train to just start because the longer he has to put on a brave face, watching them through the glass, the more his heart breaks. He hates the flood of relief that flows through his body as the train starts to move.

Although no matter how much it hurts, Harry doesn’t look away, he watches the village he grew up in, his home for the past fifteen years, the people he loves the most in the world, until they fade completely, before turning away from the window and squeezing his eyes shut.

**Author's Note:**

> if you find any historical inaccuracies please point them out, you'd honestly make my day (not even sarcastic criticism, even nitpicking turns me on).
> 
> if you would like to read this other ww2 fic i have an idea for encourage me in the comments, or don't its fine either way.


End file.
